Fall to Pieces
by WitchWarren
Summary: You'll all get the title when I post some more.I decided to have this as a 3/4part oneshot instead one extra long oneshot. Royai-maybe.  But more about a fun hidden talent that Riza has...  Rated T because I'm paranoidly rating high based on future chaps
1. Chapter 1

In a solitary office in military headquarters a blond sighed.

It wasn't all that remarkable, unless you consider the individual it came from never showed any signs of fatigue, stress, or indeed any emotion at all.

At least, according to her co-workers.

Therefore it was unusual for the ice-queen mask to slip a sigh not directed at them for slacking or for inappropriate behaviour. Hell, if her co-workers got too bad or were too out of hand then the only thing she'd let slip would be a menacing aura that threatened gunfire that would rival any fear-inducing monstrosity that ever cursed the planet.

"Something wrong Lieutenant?" Colonel Mustang raised an eyebrow.

1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye raised her head, startled, "Nothing at all Sir."

"Maybe it's the weather." 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc suggested. Indeed the atmosphere had been heavy all week; muggy and electric as storm clouds gathered overhead throughout the week causing a lethargic mood to creep across the city and, in particular, across the military base. Luckily the week had been a slow one – as far paperwork and events-wise – and now they had arrived at the end with relatively no paperwork and no outstanding deadlines. In fact all the above-mentioned things were unusual, considering which office they were talking about.

"It's nothing, I believe I already asserted the fact." Said the Lieutenant wryly, one eyebrow arched. Hands swift, the papers on her desk were neatly placed in the out box and the remainder of her already spotless desk ruthlessly organised. "Now if that is all…" She then stood, jacket and satchel just as quickly donned, and saluted, "Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye leaving duty at 1800 hours. Goodnight Sir."

_What to do? She seems fine enough,_ thought Roy. "Goodnight."

She nodded in acknowledgement of the chorus of farewells and left with Hayate scurrying lopsidedly at her heels in a puppy imitation of a march, a perfect example of her normal exit. The ringing of his desk phone prevented Roy from further contemplation, sultry tones sending shivers of anticipation down his spine in accompaniment to the sudden influx of drool in his mouth; "Savannah! Well hello…"

The rest of the subordinates assumed resigned demeanours and went about their business, clearing away basic loose ends before taking their leave; _none _of the men wanting to be stuck in the same room as their schmoozing commanding officer.

"_Are you able to get away from your work for me?" _A clear invitation if there ever was one – a golden opportunity – and only fool would let it slip through his fingers.

Roy Mustang was no fool.

"I'm just getting off work; I can get you some gorgeous seats to that new musical you like…" His tone ended in that playful, teasing note he took with his dates.

"_And maybe after we can take a nice little walk before the rest of the evening's entertainment…" _The woman played along, giggling slightly as she trailed off her little innuendo.

"Pick you up in an hour."

* * *

><p>WitW: Bit of a cliff hanger there. Couldn't help it. Got 2 reviews and a fave so I'm riding on the delirium high of hapiness! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!<br>Roy: You mean there's actually someone -an idiot- that actually reads your stories  
>WitW: Just for that you're not getting any sex in this, or any other fic. Ever<br>Roy: WHAAAAAT?  
>WitW: In fact...*takes out shotgun and aims* you got 10seconds before I change your procreating abilities...<p>

*Mustang starts running, Riza appears*

Riza: Isn't he out of range?  
>WitW: *lowers gun*<br>Riza: See? You let him get too-  
>WitW:*Reaches into a pocket to get out a pair of glasses* I hate being blind *takes aim and fires, Mustang drops like a fly*<br>Riza: ...

*Riza sways on her feet slightly and looks at this author like she's some kind of god, Havoc appears*

Havoc: Hey Chief, did you by any chance rip that off of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?  
>WitW: Maybe. Either that or I have Hyperkinesis (Alphas=AWEsome)<p>

So please review or I'll shoot you through a vent ^_^

* * *

><p>Also - finally something <strong><em>to do <em>**with the story - I want your conspiracy theories.  
>Anything, <em>everything, <em>hit me with your best shot!

Just **_what_** do you think Riza Hawkeye is _**doing?**_


	2. Chapter 2

Riza Hawkeye walked through her front door, Hayate running past her heels and bounding towards the kitchen. As soon as the door closed behind her the perfect mask of respectability and professionalism broke with an almighty sigh. However – ever the routine, orderly person – the restlessness and frustration now evident in her face and body language didn't stop her from neatly hanging her outer coat and satchel, as well as her shoulder holster, before passing through the kitchen to give Hayate his daily afternoon meal and fixing her customary cup of tea. Drumming her fingers against the countertop Riza decided to change the bottom half of her attire to something alittle more comfortable.

Five minutes later, in slacks and bare feet, she was answering the whistle of the kettle. After the menial task of preparing her tea, Riza meandered over to the living-room, settling in a comfy armchair by the north window, and prepared to relax with her favourite form of entertainment – a good book.

After about a minute she looked up, glancing about, and then returned her gaze to her novel. Not a few seconds later she was shifting in her chair. The next time Riza caught herself she was staring out the window and sighing.

And then she was drumming her fingers.

Then she was tapping her feet.

Finally she got up and paced, aimlessly wandering through the various rooms in her apartment until finally – fifteen minutes later – she stopped back where she'd started. Hayate lay in his dog basket in a corner of the room, head over the edge, eyes following the perplexingly agitated actions of his normally still mistress as if this was a normal occurrence.

"Rrrgh!" Running a hand through her hair in frustration, Riza Hawkeye decided there was nothing else for it and headed towards the shower; _Time for my third favourite form of stress relief._

* * *

><p>After a little under an hour later, in a homey little café bar tucked away from the main lights of the club and theatre districts, Riza Hawkeye walked in and up to the bar.<p>

However, this was a Riza unrecognisable to the world as 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye; the professional and respected 'Hawk's Eye', the formidable and feared gun-toting 'Ice Queen' or the reserved and elegant just-plain 'Riza'.

A full-length trench-coat covered the her body completely, cinched tightly at the waist emphasising her extremely slender waist with only a slight band of colour peeking above the neck high collar. The slight 'Clack, clack' accompanying her steps told the older woman behind the bar that heels were a likely accessory. Long, blonde hair loose and flowing around her shoulder completed the ensemble. The only other noticeable change was a softened, more vulnerable expression and a slackened posture; almost like a child-like vulnerability in the mature woman, an aura that assured that she would be unrecognisable to those who knew her.

Luckily for her the bar was empty – save for a couple of waiters setting up the tables. The woman behind the bar, recognising the blonde, nodded in acknowledgement then proceeded to polish the beer glasses. In her early forties, her permanently tanned skin and faint rolling accent hinted at foreign origins, her creased face and single working eye an indication of a life of hardship. Still her expression was one of recognition and respect, a welcome better than what she gave most. Reassured about what she was going to do, Riza walked up to the bar, flashing a wry amused half-smile as a segue way.

"Hey stranger"

"Hiya back"

An assessing glance was spared for her trench-coated figure. "I see you got yourself dolled up…"

"Mm, a little bit" the blonde lifted a hand to her fringe then – uncertainly – untie her coat to display long flowing turquoise and verdant material. "Can you help me with the rest? Please?"

"Hmm," putting down the polished beer mug she lifted the end of the bar. "Come to the back."

* * *

><p>WitW: I said I'd update and I have...about three weeks later. ¬_¬<br>This one's a bit of a cliffhanger too, with little secret hints. Just what _**is it**_ that Riza Hawkeye sneaks away to do when she's not at target practice?

(I don't even know myself XD lol ~ and neither will Roy!*maniacal laughter)

Roy: *whine*Come on Witch, I'm a character! *schmoozer voice*Can't you let me in on the secret?

WitW: *performs the Summoning-Maes-Hughes-Chant to scare Roy off*

Roy: Oh come on! You think that's _**really**_ going to scare me? I'm the great—

Maes: Hey Roy! I got a _**whole week's worth**_ of photos to show you! You'll never guess wha— huh?

*In the place of Roy there is now just a puff of smoke*

WitW: Thanks for scaring him off.

Maes: My pleasure. Can't have any spoilers can we, besides if he knows then I can't brag at the end can I?

WitW: *Indulgent smile* No you can't can you? *Sits down and gets comfortable* Now, let's see those pictures of your daughter...

AN: I've always had a soft spot for Maes. I'm a real Daddy's girl myself. And I have this weird feeling that if I ever met a person like that we'd hit it off instantly...

Ps-I'm aware this has **nothing-whatsoever-to-do-with-the-story**. Indulge me people and write constructive criticism.

* * *

><p>Also - finally something <strong><em>to do <em>**with the story - I want your conspiracy theories.  
>Anything, <em>everything, <em>hit me with your best shot!

Just **_what_** do you think Riza Hawkeye is _**doing?**_


	3. Chapter 3

**New Years and BBC's Sherlock Holmes inspire me to write Royai fanfiction, go figure.**

* * *

><p>Roy was having a pretty good night.<p>

The play wasn't too boring.

The girl on his arm was pretty hot, boobs and hips. The slit all the way to the thigh of the long black dress she wore was a plus. Spectacular.

The rain that started up on what was supposed to be their romantic walk home – her home, of course – _that_ put a little delay on his plans. Now they were stuck in this little café bar with a bunch of bohemians. Pipes crossed and ran the length of the ceiling, and the walls were a warm orange that had accumulated dust, plastered with various posters from different plays each of which were starting to fade, a testament to its proximity to the theatre district. Stickers, also faded, ran the length of the bar. Patrons in various forms of unusual attire; one man in drag, one with various facial piercings and one with a full head of what may have been multi-coloured dreadlocks. The lighting was dim and poky. Truthfully this was just the type of place he'd rather avoid, especially on a date. Not much he could do about that right now; the early autumn chill that made his date cling to him had conjured a rainstorm short of absolute hail, so they'd had to take cover.

Snagging a booth and trying not to wince at the crumbs and dust on it – or even think about what he was sitting on – Roy tried to settle in and make the most of a bad situation. Searching the table top he realised there were no menus; "I guess we have to order things at the bar."

Savannah gave him a small smile, surreptitiously preening. She was certain the hail had done something to her hair. "I'll come with you sweetie. I need to find somewhere to powder my cheeks."

But Roy interjected with a "Why sweetheart. If you make yourself any more beautiful I'll be so utterly undeserving in comparison."

She giggled at him, batting her eyes. "Go on then, I'll be waiting right here. I just want a sparkling water. We'll be having dessert at my place remember?"

"At your service my lady." He crooned, sauntering over to the bar feeling pleased with himself. "Yo!" He waved down what looked to be a female bartender only to have her come closer and bring ambiguity into his assumption. A little flattery couldn't hurt. "Excuse me beautiful but could you—"

He was interrupted by the dimming of the lights. Turning towards the stage in the far back, he saw a woman in a long silk robe. Her long blonde fringe hung over half her face and curled slightly at the end, reminding Roy uncomfortably of a certain Northern general but the rest of it was in short ringlets around her chin.

The spotlight snapped on the instant she dropped the robe – along with Roy's jaw – to the floor. She was fully covered, but the material spanning from her throat to the underside of her breasts was sheer gauze, giving a tantalising glimpse of more than ample unfettered curves. Roy was almost mad at the emerald lace that spanned the edges – preventing anyone from seeing more. Underneath that was a corset, seeming to shimmer between blue and green in the lights. Her skirt was a darker green, obviously melded with the corset, which ended at her knees. The silk was hitched up to form a slit to show the thigh, if it weren't for the black lace shorts.

Roy's mouth may have been watering at this point, he wasn't sure.

Then she opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and sang.

_I'm not yours, and you're not mine  
>But we can sit and pass the time<br>No fighting wars, no ringing chimes  
>We're just feeling fine<br>This is where we're supposed to be  
>Sitting by a broken tree<br>No tragedy, no poetry  
>Just staring at the sky<em>

_I could wait a thousand hours  
>Stay the same in sun showers<br>Pick apart a hundred flowers  
>Just to be quiet<em>

_Tell me when you feel ready  
>I'm the one, there's not too many<br>Hold my hand to keep me steady  
>Just to be quiet<br>With you_

_I like it here  
>Beside you dear<br>You're even more than you appear  
>And in the clouds my head is clear<br>Every time you say hello_

_So here's my heart and here's my mouth  
>And I can't help if things come out<br>Cause there are words I want to shout  
>But maybe I'll stay low<em>

As the song ended- completely acapella, Roy had always admired those performances…well… - he came to the realisation that his mouth was still wide open. The woman opened her eyes – to look straight at him. She seemed to freeze, almost imperceptibly before about-facing and heading offstage through a door. Something in the movement reminded Roy of Hawkeye. Nah, of course not! Stupid to think about.

Facing the bar again, he noted the ambiguous-looking bartender was still there. Plastering his most charming smile on his face he leant forward, "Sorry about that beautiful, I got a bit distracted. Could you possibly get me some menus please? And tell me a little bit about that lovely _siren_ onstage just now?"

Jamie raised an eyebrow at him then moved to eye his date pointedly. "We don't have menus here. And you're gonna get nowhere with Songbird."

Changing tack he let his eyebrows rise in guileless surprise, "Really?"

"Yup." The bartender continued self-righteously. "Don't worry, we'll be bringing you what you need in a second."

"But we haven't ordered anything." Now he was getting a bit indignant. "And who says I'm not an adoring fan."

"We bring you what you need here." Was repeated, firmly, as the man/woman(?) continued to polish a glass. Giving him a derisive glance up and down, taking in his date suit and snorting. "Songbird comes and goes. It all depends on her state of mind."

Now Roy was intrigued. "How so?"

Glancing up at him her facial features softened slightly. "It's an escape you see. She comes when her world is in turmoil. A place where she recognises nothing - separate from her life. She comes to get away from the world, so she doesn't fall to pieces."

* * *

><p>WitW: Ok in response to my earlier AN <strong>yes<strong> I did start writing again just after Sherlock's first episode however I forgot to finish before being confronted with Reichenbach….

*Author trails off, tears and a look of complete and utter trauma appearing on her face*

I DON'T WANNA LIVE ON THIS PLANET DUWAAAHAAAA—

SOMEONE—

PLEAAAAASE—

GET ME MY SHOCK BLANKET—

Also after that, coursework, revision, exams, my computer crashing and me haunting the Sherlock side of FF . net happened. Not necessarily in that order. Also, my muse is being a floozy bitch! *Indignant!Writer*

Side note: It hailed yesterday! A sign that I must update!

If you wanna know the song is called Quiet by Lights. Link: http:/www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=m0Ohl3MMq0o

The sort-of inspiration for Riza's skirt: http: / www . divacorsets . com / collections/ /amberlin-mini-bow-corset-dress/0/174


End file.
